Magick?

This brings me to Pitch’s second
point, that in many ways really underlies his first.  Wild species are more magickally powerful than tame.  When you have a message from Spirit
that your work should focus on native species, as I gather is the case with
Pitch, that follows.  But what
about those of us who have not received that particular message?

The tame and domesticated really
are different in fascinating ways from their wild cousins.  The latest New Scientist (Oct 3-9
issue, not online yet)  has a very
interesting article “Taming the Beast” by Henry Nicholls on what happens when
wild foxes, rats, mink, and otters are tamed – as well as how that is
achieved.   So I can imagine
their energies are different to work with than are those of domesticated plants
and animals.

In most case wild animals and
plants are harmoniously integrated into the energies of their place.  Their connections are often symbiotic,
which is different than with many aggressively invasive species.  Perhaps crucially important, they are
never our “property.”

But this last point leads to my
main argument.  I think it is as
much how we approach ‘domestic’ as compared to wild beings as much as their own
qualities that determines their magickal and ritual efficacy.  Probably more so.  After all, cats have been domesticated
for a long time.

Let me tell a story – a true one.

Many years ago for the first and so
far only time, I rented a small house with a big backyard.  Like with most rental property, nothing
much had ever been done to that yard in a long time.  Because I love working with the earth, over the years I put
in flower beds all over the place and enhanced the vegetable garden.  But more importantly, every morning and
after many other meals I would put a small offering outside before I ate.  Once a week I burned a candle along
with rum and tobacco offerings in a safe spot with a stone altar.  I placed it at the edge of a small area
near a redwood into which I almost never entered or interfered.  In short, I tried to enter into a
respectful relationship with the energies of the place.

The transformation was not
instantaneous, but within a couple of years people who visited said the back
yard felt “different” in a good way. 
Wonderful flowers began to volunteer even though I had not planted
them.  A rose even appeared, and it was not a native one.  The agapanthus that volunteered
were still there when I walked by recently, maybe ten years later.  Every year it seemed one variety of
plant would act “unnaturally” vigorous, at least for the area.  This varied from a 12 foot hollyhock to
gargantuan tomato vines to a delphinium that was taller than me with 7 – 9
stalks from one plant.  In short,
the place came alive.  Yet there
were few native plants in the yard, though when they appeared if they could
“share,” and be part of this “human community,” I left them.

As a culture we rarely treat the
animal and plant members of the human community with much respect.  In my experience, when we do, wonderful
things happen.

I think agricultural societies
marked the first great alienation from natural energies.  What appeared as a gift in the wild
became property when planted in a field and labored over.  Making a field took an area out of
nature, and under more or less successful human control.  I suspect we had little choice in
making that shift, but it gave human life a split personality that has yet to
heal.